Strange Companions
by Hi.Di.Hi
Summary: Musings over the complications of life with a transforming, cow-suited, black haired guy.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own rights over the original story, this is merely a fanfiction for potential reader entertainment.**

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**Poof.**

The room is so dark that I can hardly see... all I can do is feel. Feel the refreshing chill from midsummer rain, the dull slap of skin on skin, the indecipherable grimace of the man beneath my hips. I can't tell what he's thinking when he looks at me like that. It's the same look he wears when he's lost in thought, when we're watching the television... and when I cook for him, it's just like he's in that other form – you know, the one with the horns and the fur, and the big doe eyes. It's almost like... after 'reparting' bits of him never make the full change. A defect, if you will. The only way to describe his expression... well, I can't really... because it's more of an absence of one.

But there's something in that well-practised poker face. Something that I only see when I'm straddling him on our bed.

Our bed.

_Our _bed.

I stop moving.

"Hey." His hand comes up to reach me, brushing my hair out of my face. "Hey, what's wrong? Why did you stop?" Even pointedly avoiding his gaze, I can feel it. It's a burning sensation that lingers on the surface of my skin, raising hairs, and spreading like wildfire.

It feels so good but, still, I flinch out of reflex.

"Hakka?" He says again. "Did I hurt you?"

I can't look at him. Well, technically I am looking at him... but I can't see anything. My face is so red that my eyes have gone blurry and suddenly those dark eyes have merged into the rest of his face. One big muddy puddle of stupidly handsome...-_argh_. I smile. "I'm fine." I say.

"We can stop if you need to. I won't force you if you're uncomfortable."

"No." I shake my head, perhaps a little too much. "I mean... I am comfortable." I force myself to look at him, face nearly purple with humiliation. "So, please... don't stop."

He pauses for a second, fingers skimming down my arm like an afterthought. Then, suddenly, I'm lying with my back pressed into the mattress, staring up at him. "Perhaps it's better like this?" He chuckles, his face now more animated, more mischievous. I like all of his faces, but this one is frequently the most troubling. "If you've run out of stamina you should just say it out-right instead of beating around the bush. I can certainly go a few more rounds like this."

"But Ginge-ah!"

And, once again, he's inside of me, and my toes are curling, and I feel so completely and utterly full – reduced to blubbering like a tongue-tied idiot.

Yes, I wanted to argue with him. I wanted to tell him that it wasn't that I'd run out of stamina or anything... and that if he hadn't been staring so intently, I could have kept going... but I'd completely lost the will to do anything. My brain had descended to mush with one jerk of his hips, and, as a result, all I can do is watch those full lips hovering inches from my own.

Bewitched, I lean forward and-

POOF.

It's twelve o'clock in the morning. I am lying in bed, still very naked and still very tangled in the sheets... except it's not the torso of a lean man that's pinning me to the bed. No. It's the torso of some sort of life sized plushy. A very angry, _neuter _plushy.

And the situation is just too hilarious not to laugh.

"I'm sorry-" I manage through sporadic gasps and wheezes, clutching my belly because it's starting to cramp. "I was so into it that I forgot that it does that when we... you know..."

The strange animal just stares at me accusingly, incapable of speech.

"Maybe we _should_ stop, Ginger." I turn to the bedside alarm clock. 00:25 glares back at me. "It's already past midnight, and besides saving the world around the clock, I still have work tomorrow. I'd like to get some sleep, at least."

At first he hesitates. If you didn't know Ginger well enough, you wouldn't be able to notice it. I almost didn't. It's like a flicker – a trick of the light. But it's there. Then, either unable to argue with me or simply unwilling, Ginger rolls away and stares at the ceiling.

When I know he won't push me away, I cuddle against him, arms clinging greedily to the soft torso, enjoying the springy cushion that makes up his limbs. I pretend to be asleep, hoping that he won't pry my arms off him too soon.


	2. Chapter 2

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**Kigurumi Baby**

"Do you really think we need birth control... what with you being a Kigurumi and all?" I ask over a mug of hot chocolate, curled up on the sofa next to my deceptively cute companion. "I mean... I know that you're human and all, but it's just... it seems like..."

Ginger continues to stare at the television, ignoring me. The adverts aren't even that interesting... I guess it's just an awkward topic for him.

But that doesn't mean I'm going to drop it. "What did you start off as?" I ask. Finally, he turns to me slowly, and I wonder – instantly – if I have offended him. Though he never struck me as the sensitive type...

So, insensitively, I continue to probe further. "You know... when you were born were you like a normal baby or were you..."

'… born in an animal suit?' The sheen of white vinyl is suddenly in my face, obstructing my view of the opening credits for my favourite show. I push it away, but it reappears just as fast. 'Why?' It reads.

_That's a good question_, I muse. _'Why?'._

I turn to look at him, and suddenly I do feel bad.

The topic came about mostly as a result of my own curiosity... but somehow it feels like I can't tell him that. Maybe it's his lack of an expression that's so pitiful, or something in his mood... but it's successfully made me feel guilty for prying into something that only now seems like a sensitive topic. But can I really help it? Doesn't it also affect me, too? Or is it selfish to think that way? My hand rubs over my stomach unconsciously.

For a while after, I am staring at the brown sludge congealing at the bottom of my mug in an attempt to try to hide the fact that I'm feeling ashamed of myself for asking. I hadn't meant to hurt his feelings, just to understand a little better. What it was I was trying to understand, even I'm not entirely sure. Why was I even thinking about all that anyway? It's not like I want to be a mum. I'm not ready for it. Not yet.

Ginger taps my shoulder gently, and it takes a while, but eventually I turn around. 'The answer to your question:'

The board disappears again, and once more the silence is filled with the sound of marker pen squeaking against its plastic surface.

'… I don't know.'

I stare at it, then nod my head gently as I place the cup on a coaster on the tea table in front of us. His answer hadn't surprised me at all. What was I expecting? A scientific deconstruction of the ins and outs of the Kigurumi species?

I guess, if he had been born like... _that_ it felt like it might be the sort of thing he'd notice... or remember. But if he's been like that all his life, then... well... thinking about it too much was making my head hurt.

'Do you want to find out?' It takes a little while to register that there is anything in front of me; let alone read what the board says. But the moment the words have processed my face is red again and I've slapped Ginger across his weirdly cute face.

If you can even call it a face. Part of me is still convinced it's some sort of helmet – and I'm at the butt end of some ridiculous, sick joke where Kigurumi's don't exist and the fate of humanity hasn't actually been jeopardised at all.

And yet, the other less cynical part of my brain has strayed into wild fantasies of tiny little baby cow-plushies in romper suits, waving rattles and falling over because they can't walk; and, for a moment, it makes the fist that has drawn back to pummel him falter.

He sends me a look, and even with an unreadable, unchangeable face... I can tell that he knows every single thought that has passed through my head in the past few seconds.

'You thought about it, didn't you?'

_Yeah_, I think. _I did._ And then my fist connects with his stomach, and I get up to make myself another cup of coco.


End file.
